


Truth

by unfortunate17



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: :D, Hopeful Ending, M/M, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:25:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunate17/pseuds/unfortunate17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Liam knows that Zayn cheats on him and yet, he keeps forgiving him. So like a Zayn cheats multiple times but Liam forgives him and then end it however you want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth

**Author's Note:**

> (you don’t know how much i love stories where there’s cheating it gives you so much space to work with character dhg;sk)

Zayn smells like flowers.

(And he smells nothing like spicy aftershave, smoke, and incense.)

Liam’s shaking in bed, tired and cold as he tries to push down the night’s events. The light is faint in the bathroom and Liam wonders if Zayn’s showering off the perfume so he can crawl back in his bed.

They’d gone clubbing - Liam, Zayn, some of their uni friends, and Zayn’s art club. And Liam remembers her very well, with the dark skin and the darker hair, cat eyes winking at Zayn from across the dance floor. He remember Zayn tucking a kiss to his mouth before telling him that he’d be back in just a minute.

Liam smiles, kisses him back, and turns his head the other way as Zayn disappears down the the sweaty, crowded room. 

He doesn’t come back in a minute. 

In fact, the next time Liam really sees him is forty-five minutes later, right around closing time when he makes his way back and slides into their booth, shoulder brushing Liam’s. 

"Hey," Zayn says, mouthing at his ear, "having a good time?"

Liam shrugs, “Ok.”

Zayn leans into him and Liam can see his eyes are warm, fond, and beautiful under the dark room. He pouts, “Come with me.”

Liam eyes the hand Zayn’s held out to him hesitantly, “Where?”

Zayn smiles, eyes crinkling and tongue pushing into the back of his teeth, “You’ll see.”

Liam takes his hand, ignores any thought of where it might have been, and lets Zayn pull him through the doors of the club, cool January air slapping the both of them in the face. 

Zayn laughs and turns into him, eyes a thick lash line. He huddles close into Liam and they kiss in the snow under the last of the festive holiday decorations.

It’d literally be a fantasy romance if it wasn’t for the way Zayn smelled. All sweet and flowery. Like perfume. Or the way his hair was mussed. Too random to be deliberate, almost like someone had gripped it and ran their fingers through it.

Liam swallows and Zayn leans slightly back to look at him strangely. He closes his eyes against the rush of bile, “Take me home.”

Zayn smiles against his mouth, “Anything for you.”

_____

Liam lets it slide. Doesn’t bring it up or throw a fuss  - but neither does he expect a repeat performance. Especially not one so obvious.

He presses a hand to his mouth as he falls back against the door to Zayn’s apartment, tipping his head back to keep the tears at bay. 

_God Zayn. Zayn right there._ _ZaynZaynZaynZayn_

and probably the worst, 

_You’re so beautiful, love. So fucking beautiful._

Liam swallows back the rush of ache, remembers a night where he let Zayn push inside of him for the first time - for the actual  _first time -_ and Zayn kissing his mouth and cheeks and - 

He wonders whether Zayn throws the word  _love_  around the way Liam seems to throw  _trust_  around. 

Liam knows he should probably unlock the door, catch them in the act and shout at him - tell him things like  _fuck you_ and  _i’m leaving_ or  _there’s nothing you could say to me right now that’d make me forgive you._

Except that there’s a part of Liam that wonders whether Zayn would actually come after him and apologize, or rather wait until he’s finished with whoever he’s fucking before calling Liam to come pick his things up. And then Liam would lose him for good. 

He closes his eyes, takes a step back, and takes the elevator downstairs because he thinks his legs might give out on the stairs. He resolves to never show up unannounced again. 

_____

"I miss you," Liam says to Zayn quietly. He’s curled around him, naked and stated and a little loose as he rests against Zayn’s chest. 

Zayn looks down at him and he’s so beautiful in a way that tears at Liam’s organs and scabs over ugly and bloody. He smiles around the cigarette in his mouth, “We see each other almost every day.”

Liam shrugs, feeling small, “Dunno. Feels like - sorry.” He shakes his head and tells himself to value the time he  _does_ in fact get with Zayn. 

But, Zayn leans down, kissing the top of his forehead and smooths back his hair, “Midterms will be done soon.” He tips Liam’s chin up with gentle, gentle hands and slides down in the bed, abandoning his fag, until he’s curled around Liam, “Sorry, babe. I’ve been busy.”

_Yeah,_ Liam wants to say,  _busy fucking other people._

"Yeah," Liam says instead, "I understand. I’ve been busy too."

Zayn smiles at him again, warm and soft and private - or at least Liam thought so. He wonders how to how many other people Zayn flashes that smile to, “Love you.”

Liam chokes, “Love you too.”

_____

Next time, it’s a voice message. 

They’re both laughing - Liam happy in a way he hadn’t been in a long, long time -  as Zayn tries to press his paint stained fingers into his face - when Zayn’s phone goes off. 

Zayn shrugs and pins Liam under him on the couch as the phone continues to go off on the coffee table. He smiles, leaning down to kiss him just as the voice drives the wedge into Liam’s chest. 

_Hey Zayn, it’s Beth. Was just wondering if you were up for another go tonight. Call me back?_  

Liam freezes but Zayn doesn’t. Zayn just pushes him firmly into the couch and kisses him, swallowing down any noise (or words) Liam goes to make. 

"Biology project," Zayn mumbles into his mouth, "I’m not interested in sticking any more needles into my arms for a bloody experiment."

Liam frowns because he doesn’t really know that much about biology but he does know that Zayn hasn’t taken a biology course with a lab section for about a year now. 

Zayn thumbs at the crinkle between Liam’s eyebrows and groans, “C’mon, Liam. We’re in the middle of something here. You can think later, yeah.”

_Or,_ Liam thinks as Zayn gets the two of them out of their clothes,  _I can think never._

_______

Three weeks before the end of term, Zayn finds him crying in the shower. 

It’s getting obvious now, the way he has to fight for Zayn’s attention in public (no matter how affectionate Zayn seems to be, his attention is elsewhere) and the way that girls was talking about how good Zayn was with his hands and looked stricken when she saw Liam standing behind her. 

Zayn turns the spray of the water off and pockets the key to Liam’s apartment. The action gives Liam a strangely hollow feeling - Zayn had rushed from the door to find him. He doesn’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing. 

"Li?" Zayn mutters. He sounds worried. "You ok, Liam?"

Liam closes his eyes as Zayn wraps a towel around his shoulders, helping him up to his feet. 

"I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, Liam. C’mon," he leads him gently out into the bedroom and towels him off. Liam’s not sobbing anymore but there are silent tears still occasionally slipping and he wipes at them furiously. 

Zayn pads back from his closet with a pair of sweat pants which Liam shucks on quickly. He turns to search for a shirt, but Zayn stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Liam turns to watch as Zayn slides out of his hoodie and zips him up in it, soft and spicy with incense around him. 

"Liam," Zayn whispers after a long, long time. 

Liam shakes his head quickly and falls back into the bed, but Zayn is persistent, crawling in after him. 

"What’s wrong?"

Liam turns to burrow himself into Zayn, “I love you.”

Zayn lets out a long breath and his arms come up and around Liam, “I love you too.”

Liam smiles wryly into his chest, “Do you, Zayn?”

And then Zayn’s making a shocked noise and he leans down close to Liam’s neck, “Are you serious? Are you finishing with me?”

Liam laughs, low and ugly, “Of course I’m not finishing with you, Zayn. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

It’s the first time Zayn goes rigid and tight in his hold since Liam had first  caught him with his tongue in someone else’s mouth at the New Years countdown last year. 

He doesn’t know whether it’s a good thing or not.

_______

"Li?"

Liam groans, turning over on the couch to look up at Zayn, who’s standing in the doorway in a leather jacket, impossibly tight pants, and a loose white t-shirt. Liam swallows against the pathetic way his heart crashes into his rib cage at the very sight of him. 

"I’m going out, yeah."

Liam nods, “Should I wait up?”

Zayn hesitates and there’s something in his eyes for a minute, something that resembles guilt, “You’d wait up for me?”

Liam swallows, “Yeah,” he says tightly, “D’ya want me to? Because I can until - whenever. It’s not a problem, you know.”

Zayn looks at his hand on the doorknob and then back at Liam, “No - I. That’s ok. You don’t have to wait up.”

Liam nods again, “Ok.”

Zayn’s adam’s apple bobs, “Liam?”

"Yeah," he whispers back. Liam gets to his feet and and makes his way to Zayn. He brushes past him and opens the door, then turns to smile at him, "Have fun."

Zayn looks stricken for a second and he leans forward into Liam, taking a deep steadying breath. “You’ll - you’ll be here right? You’re not going to go anywhere?”

Liam smiles sadly and leans to to kiss his lovely, heartbreaking cheekbone, “Yeah, Zayn. I’ll always be here for you.”

Zayn pulls the door shut and pushes him back against it. They stand there for long moments, foreheads pressed against each other. 

"You  _know_.” Zayn whispers after a second, “I know you do. Call me out on it. Liam.  _Li_.”

Liam raises his eyebrows in an expression of mock confusion, “What?” His hands are shaking against Zayn’s hips, “Call you out on what?”

Zayn’s eyes fill with tears and it’s like a punch in Liam’s stomach. He feels hollow and he ducks his head, waiting with bated breath as to what Zayn’s going to do next. 

He hears Zayn’s knuckles smash into the wall before he’s being roughly moved as Zayn leaves, the door slamming behind him loud and angry. Liam wills himself not to cry. 

_______

Zayn doesn’t show up to class the next day. 

Or the day after. 

In fact, he misses class for a week straight before Liam goes to hunt him down. 

He’s curled on the soft, fast asleep with his neck in the oddest position, an old rerun of The Looney Tunes show on the television with the volume down low. 

Liam’s heart twists and he steps forward, softly pushing the door closed behind him as not to wake him. He walks forward and sinks to his knees next to him. Zayn shudders but doesn’t wake and it’s only then that Liam notices how cold the room is. 

He sighs, finds the little afghan that him and Zayn used to wrap themselves in, and covers Zayn’s curled body, knees almost tucked under his chin. 

Zayn stirs under the rug and Liam pushes up to his feet so he doesn’t kiss him and wanders into the kitchen. Maybe he could actually find something edible in there for once - besides, being able to cook was an important characteristic in Zayn’s criteria of a boyfriend. 

That’s when he sees that godforsaken phone, thrown carelessly on the microwave with the fifteen texts (none of which Liam has sent in the last few days, wanting to give Zayn space). There are three different names on the screen each one more flirty than the rest, all sent in the last twenty four hours. 

Liam closes his eyes, lead falling into his stomach, and sinks to the ground. He tucks himself against the kitchen counter and breaks down until he can scarcely believe he’s still human. 

_______

Zayn wakes up two hours later and takes one look at Liam’s red and hurt face before he’s curling back tighter into the afghan. He doesn’t cry. 

"Zayn," Liam whispers, "Ok, Zayn, I’ll bite, ok.  _Why?”_

Zayn chokes, “I’m sorry.”

Liam lets out a sound that resembles a whimper, “Don’t say things like that to me,” he laughs bitterly, “I’ll probably just forgive you.”

Zayn tosses back onto the couch and scuttles away from him when Liam goes to join him on the couch. 

They’re silent for long, long moments. 

"I - um," Liam wrings his hands, "Is there something I’m doing wrong. Because, whatever they’re doing for you Zayn, I can do it too. Just tell me what it is. Because I can. Like, whatever you want. Whatever you need. Just - just  _tell me.”_

Zayn closes his eyes, “No. It’s not you - “

"Don’t," Liam breaks in - and yet, his voice lacks the anger, "don’t give me that line."

Zayn nods, “Ok.”

The silence is deafening. Then Liam laughs weakly, “I ripped a copy of  Ghostbusters. Want to see it?”

Zayn shifts so he’s pressed into Liam’s side, “That sounds nice.”

Liam smiles softly, running his fingers through soft, black hair, “It’s a good movie.”

And that’s that.

_______

They’re pressed together on a hot, sticky July night and Liam’s legs are wobbly from sex. He feels sort of dirty now, wonders how many people Zayn takes and makes beautiful every night. He knows there have been three - the three from the phone - since that night, but he’s not even keeping track anymore. 

Zayn’s laughing in his ears about some art joke that Liam doesn’t understand and Liam wonders not for the first time why this beautiful boy bothers stringing him along everywhere he goes. 

"Zayn?"

Zayn stops mid sentence and squints down at him, “Yeah?”

"You - you don’t have to be upset." Liam says quietly, "Like, you can totally leave you know that. Don’t have to stick around for my benefit."

Zayn leans down into his hair. His voice is decidedly different when he replies, harsh and sure, “I’m not going anywhere.”

"Then - " Liam shakes his head, confused beyond words, "I don’t understand. I just - why can’t you - Zayn?"

Zayn laughs sardonically, “If you were smart, you would’ve kicked me out months ago. But you don’t, you fucking stick around and you’re such a fucking saint Liam and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Liam closes his eyes at the accusation, feeling small and useless, “You’re - like. You’re  _allowed_  you know that. I realized that a while back because, like, I just want you around and if like - other people make it better then I think I’ll just - ” He’s dizzy now, words pouring out that he never thought he’d be saying - never admitting to Zayn. 

Zayn’s breathing is still steady but his heartbeat has increased dramatically.

His voice is broken when he talks next, “Did I teach you this, Liam? Did I teach you to think like this?”

Liam pats his side sloppily, “Nah, just reinforced something that people used to tell me back in Wolverhampton.”

“ _Leeyum_.”

Liam smiles, world fuzzing out through his tears. He wipes them away, laughing, “I wish I could stop crying.”

Zayn hold him closer, “I wish I could stop making you, but - it’s. It’s like a drug, yeah. The thought that people want to, like, actually fuck a Paki is. You don’t understand what that’s like, Liam. Not after spending all my life being a different color - the wrong color. Now people fucking trip over themselves and that’s - it’s. I’m.”

Liam’s tries to swallow around the knot in his throat and fails. Zayn looks down at him with sad, sad, sad eyes - those very eyes that Liam loved and  _loves_ because they hold so much softness - so much fondness - for him. “I never wanted to hurt you,” Zayn says to him, honestly, “I really do love you.”

"But it’s not enough," Liam says then, enlightened. He feels as though he’s been shot in the heart, "Will it ever be enough?"

Zayn holds him tighter, “I don’t know.” But then he’s tilting Liam’s head up and pressing close, steeping their foreheads together, “But, Liam, this is my fucking fault, yeah. It’s not - please stoping blaming yourself and fucking toss me to the side, yeah because - “

"Zayn," Liam says quietly, because Zayn is the flesh carved from Liam’s bones, "I can wait."

Zayn looks stricken, horrified, but his hands are clamping down, holding Liam in place almost subconsciously and Liam doesn’t know exactly what he’s got himself into. What’s he’s got himself stuck in. But someone’s got to take the fall in this relationship to even have the  _hope_  that they’ll work someday. 

And like always, it might as well be him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I was so excited about this and I’m not really sure about the turn the ending just took but eh gkjhdjkgh. IDK. HOPE YOU LIKED IT ANYWAY.


End file.
